he phantom legions ever
passing. Squads of cavalry dashed by, manly, weather-beaten boys in
gray, and elegant-looking officers wearing the well-remembered
slouched hat with cord and feathers, and full Confederate uniforms.
Infantry and artillery officers and privates thronged the sidewalks,
arm in arm, walking in half embrace, or standing with hand grasping
hand. Those not in uniform wore the badges of their respective
commands, and frequently some faded remnant of "the gray."

In the largo dry-goods establishment of Sauger & Brothers an immense
show-window was skilfully and beautifully arranged in honor of the
occasion. Confederate soldiers (life size), so natural and life-like
as to startle one, were grouped around a camp-fire anxiously watching
a large kettle containing a tempting-looking "mess" of green corn,
potatoes, other vegetables, and the rations of pork and beef. Blankets
neatly rolled and strapped, canteens, haversacks, etc., lay near upon
the ground. In the background, a deck of cards and two piles of
Confederate money had evidently been thrown down and deserted to
"watch the pot." We learned that this most realistic arrangement was
the work of a "Yankee boy," whose father had served in the Federal
army,--a loving tribute to the people among whom he had come to make
his home.

Arrived at the hotel, where a crowd of people waited in the parlor to
be assigned rooms, we witnessed many a touching scene between veterans
who met now after twenty years. An anxious face would look in at the
door, a manly form would advance irresolutely into the room, furtively
scanning the new-comers. Suddenly,--"Jim, can this be you?" "Why,
Dave, old fel! great God, is this Dave?" Then as hand met and grasped
hand these strong men would often break into sobs which forbade all
speech, while every heart of those who looked on thrilled with
responsive feeling.

From what I learned of the intended evening festivities at the
camp-ground (music and dancing under the glare of the electric light),
I felt disinclined to be present. All day I had walked hand in hand
with memory, turning again and again to clasp her closely and to feel
the throbbing of her sad heart upon my own. The dear presence still
enthralled me, and I could imagine no counter-charm in the laughing
face and airy form of Terpsichore.

On the following morning, Amy and I, escorted by a gallant Missouri
veteran, set out for the rendezvous, where we found assembled thre